


moments of you, moments of me, moments of us

by EllaYuki



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Fluff and Angst and Feels, Developing Relationship, Episode Related, Established Relationship, Fluff, I cannot tag to save my life, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-18 03:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10608216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllaYuki/pseuds/EllaYuki
Summary: a year in the life of katsuki yuuri.a year in the life of victor nikiforov.victor and yuuri slowly falling and rising and growing together.(12 episodes, 12 moments each)





	1. yuuri's side

**Author's Note:**

> chapter one will be yuuri's pov, chapter 2 will be victor's pov.

1.

he wakes up with a splitting head ache and feeling sticky, his sore muscles screaming at him, and for a moment, he panics.

he remembers going to the banquet, not talking to anyone, keeping to himself in his pain and sadness, and he remembers starting to drink. he hopes he hasn’t done anything too outrageous. not with all the top skaters in the world there, and with the members of the isu and the sponsors and  _victor_.

he also hopes he hasn’t done anything he’s going to regret the moment he opens his eyes. because with the way his body feels, he thinks it might be a real possibility.

slowly, tentatively, he opens one eye, just a bit. then the other. the room is empty.

he lets out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. he’s alone, and it doesn’t look like anyone’s been in here with him. good. that’s one more regret he doesn’t need hobbling him.

he gets up, showers the stickiness from his skin, then texts mari, and phichit and celestino. he tries to gather himself, put aside the humiliation he feels whenever he remembers his failure and the fact that victor had treated him like an ordinary fan, and starts preparing for departure.

and when he boards the plane for america, he tries to put his disappointment behind him.

(he’ll wonder, a year later, if maybe he should have asked if anything had happened at the banquet.)

~

obviously, he can’t put it behind him.

because he fails and fails again, no matter how hard he tries. and he’s more and more disappointed with himself.

and thoughts of retirement start appearing, coalescing with each failed jump, with each missed landing. the only programme he doesn’t totally bomb, the only one he skates without mistakes, is one that isn’t even his own, which he finds ironic and a little bit frustrating.

and sure it’s not a perfect rendition, it’ll never be, because he could only dream of landing quad flips or a quad lutz, but he pours his heart into every move, every spin.

~

he finishes school, he breaks things off with celestino, and he moves back to hasetsu.

he needs a break, so he can think, so he can relax, so he can decide what he wants to do with his life, with the future that looms like a dark cloud over his head. he’s not depressed anymore, but he’s not content with his life either.

and when he skates for yuuko, for the friend who has known him almost his entire life and has been nothing but supportive in his endeavor to chase victor and to become more than just a dime-a-dozen skater, he doesn’t think it’ll change his life.

when yuuri starts skating stammi vicino on the ice where his life as a skater started, he doesn’t expect anything to come out of it.

he certainly doesn’t expect to end up with victor nikiforov in his home.

(again, had he remembered the banquet, or at least asked about it, maybe he wouldn’t have been quite so shocked. maybe.)

 

2.

it’s been at least a couple of hours and yuuri still can’t sleep.

victor is in his home, sleeping in a room just a few feet away and yuuri can’t, he can’t wrap his head around it. around the how and the why and the everything, because this feels like a dream, and his heart won’t stop pounding, won’t stop racing in his chest.

he looks up to the wall by his window and it looks weird, feels weird, without the poster that had been hanging there for seven years. his entire room feels so different now that the posters are down. but he can’t put them back up, can’t risk victor ever seeing them, because he knows he’d laugh and yuuri would die of utter mortification.

another half hour and yuuri gets up, silently goes downstairs to the kitchen. he gets in front of the fridge, thinking that maybe a small snack could help him fall asleep, but in the end, he doesn’t open it, victor’s critics ringing in his head.

he grabs a bottle of water instead, and heads back to his room.

he stops when he passes by victor’s room, his whole body alive with the knowledge that, just beyond those sliding doors, the man he looked up to for most of his life, sleeps, probably cuddled with his beloved makkachin.

mindful not to make any noise, yuuri steps closer to the door, and slides it open. just an inch, he just needs to make sure this is really real, that he hasn’t had some intricate hallucination for the past few hours.

victor is sleeping on the futon they’ve provided for him, makkachin lying in his arms.  yuuri thinks he’s maybe imagining it, but thinks he sees a small frown marring victor’s face, and he can’t help but wonder if the man was upset with the way yuuri denied him earlier. he makes a mental note to apologize in the morning.

there are a few strands of silver hair falling awkwardly across victor’s eyes and yuuri almost feels compelled to open the door wider, step into the room and brush them away.

he closes the door instead. goes back to his room and drinks half the bottle of water.

it’s crazy, and it’s weird, and it’s something out of a dream. and yuuri honestly cannot wait for the coming morning.

he falls asleep pretty fast after that.

 

3.

he sees the costume and memories of a sixteen year old victor looking resplendent on the ice and yuuri’s twelve year old heart racing at the sight come to the surface.

 _this_. this costume, the first one, the one victor was wearing when he first changed yuuri’s world. victor mentions how it meant to represent both male and female and it sparks something in yuuri, gives him an idea, an angle he hadn’t considered before. and he needs this costume for it.

he goes to minako. he needs to get this… this idea, this performance just right, he needs to make it perfect, he needs to convince, to prove that he is worth victor’s time and guidance.

yuuri’s a performer. not only a skater, but a ballerina, too. so he’s used to being graceful, to moving his body with both precision and delicacy. still, it takes him a while to build the confidence needed for his chosen persona.

it’s almost dawn when he finally gets it right. after hours of frustration, minako, getting more and more irritated (though she tries to hide it), asks him, “which is more important to you? your comfort? or making sure victor doesn’t leave? think about it carefully”.

and yuuri does, calms his mind and fraying nerves and asks himself, “what  _is_  more important?” and the answer is immediate and so obvious, so silly, the image of victor’s heart-shaped smile flashing through his mind, and he wants to grasp it, to hold it, to never let it go.

and when the music starts again, seduction comes easily to his fingertips. it cocks his hip and tilts his head just so, and while he dances, yuuri doesn’t doubt for a second that he can mesmerise victor and make him stay.

 

4.

it’s… difficult, opening up to victor like that. not that running away like he had wasn’t. it’s just…

yuuri’s not used to letting people in, especially so early into their acquaintance. especially since it’s someone yuuri has looked up to for half his life, his entire professional career.

but, yuuri assumes, that’s just how victor is. he prods, sometimes gently, sometimes less so, but he never pushes. even when he invades yuuri’s space, he never really crosses the line yuuri has drawn.

it’s difficult but it’s not impossible. victor listens, lets yuuri gather his thoughts and doesn’t try to hurry him along. he doesn’t pressure yuuri. and yuuri appreciates that more than he can say.

so he tells victor about that one girl, about how he appreciates his family and friends not seeing him as a weakling even though he is. and victor is kind and comforting in a way yuuri hadn’t really let himself think victor could be, when he tells him that no, yuuri is not weak.

later, after victor asks him what yuuri wants him to be to him, after yuuri tells him, flustered but determined, that he only wants victor to be himself, yuuri feels that something has changed. in him, in victor, in their relationship.

and yuuri honestly can’t keep the smile that blooms on his face at bay. 

whatever this thing growing between them, yuuri knows it won’t last. but he’ll treasure each and every second of it. he doesn’t want to ever regret even a single moment of his time with victor.

 

5.

it’s nerve-wracking, actually.

it’s been months since victor became his coach, his programmes are complete (if not as flawless as they could be, since he still can’t land that quad salchow properly half the time), and now it’s finally show time, and it should be a piece of cake.

should be, but the nerves are slowly starting to get to him with every passing second, with every failed landing during practice, and really, he knows, he’s painfully aware that in this sport youth matters just as much as experience.

and it doesn’t help that victor is being exuberant, treating this like yuuri’s win is a done deal before the competition has even started, and while yuuri finds victor’s faith in him flattering, it’s also more than a little nerve-wracking.

it also doesn’t help that he has to go first, that his knees are shaking as much as his heart is racing, and all that pressure coming from all sides (from victor, from minami, from the whole damn country) is starting to weigh down on his shoulders.

still, he’ll do his best, he’ll skate his hardest, and he’ll prove himself once more. 

 

6.

as soon as the grand prix circuit starts, the whispers are everywhere.

‘why  _him?_ ’, 'when is victor going to stop fooling around?’, 'when is he coming back?’, 'that katsuki kid isn’t all that much, poor thing, so why is victor so interested in him?’, 'he’s wasting victor’s time, can’t he see that?’, and so on.  _and on and on and on._

he tries to pretend he doesn’t hear them, tries to pretend they don’t affect him, but it’s so hard at times, especially when his anxiety is at its worst and tries to drown him.

the worst thing is, all those are questions he’s asked himself over and over again over the past few months, still incredulous of the situation. because why  _would_ victor give up his illustrious career for a nobody like him? it still doesn’t make much sense to him, even now.

but the thing is, it doesn’t really matter  _why_. 

because the fact is that victor  _did_ , and victor has been by his side all day every day for the past half year. and yuuri, while just as confused as the rest of them, will be damned if he lets every critiquing voice get him off his game.

if the world wants a reason, he’ll give them one. if the world can’t see why, he’ll show them. he’ll show them all exactly why victor took him on, why he still sticks around. 

and if he’s hated for stealing victor from the world? 

_even better._

let them hate him. let them scorn him.

yuuri will take that hate, and he’ll take victor’s attention, and he’ll take his love and his time, and he’ll thrive.

 

7.

he can’t sleep. 

he’s tried, both the previous night, and for the past hour or so, but he can’t. he’s exhausted and he’s anxious and, for the life of him, he cannot fall asleep.

victor’s warm weight on top of him certainly doesn’t help matters. actually, it kind of makes things worse, because he keeps wriggling in his sleep, making soft sounds, and yuuri’s only human, he can only take _so much_ stimulation.

victor’s body is a furnace, and it’s hard in some places and soft in others, and yuuri can’t stop thinking, can’t stop the images that sprout behind his eyelids with every minute shift on top of him. and really, he _doesn’t need this right now_.

at one point, when yuuri’s imagination is already so far down the gutter, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to resurface, not in time for the free skate anyway, victor finally moves.

he gets off of yuuri, slowly, languidly, and yuuri thinks that finally, _finally_ he’ll get to breathe properly. that relief lasts only a couple of moments, though, because victor is an octopus when he sleeps, apparently, and doesn’t _actually let go_ of yuuri. he moves to the side, not even stirring, and gathers yuuri in his arms, pressing his entire front to yuuri’s back.

 _‘yuuri…’_ he breathes into the nape of yuuri’s neck, before nuzzling his hairline there, and yuuri…

 _well._ yuuri just decides that sleeping is overrated anyway.  

he just hopes he doesn’t outright _die_ (from embarrassment, _from frustration)_ before he even manages to step back onto the ice.

 

8.

yuuri hears his sister’s words and once again feels like a hole has opened beneath him and he’s free-falling. 

‘we don’t know if he’s going to make it.’ mari says and ‘what do you want us to do?’ and the only thing yuuri can think of is vicchan. vicchan and the way yuuri shattered last year and for a split second he wonders if he should tell victor.

then he shoves that thought viciously to the side because there is  _no way_  he’s doing that. victor needs to know, and victor needs to be there for his precious friend. and while yuuri knows that the next day is going to be difficult, with his place in the finals on the line, right now, yuuri’s priority is victor.

so the moment he catches sight of him, yuuri doesn’t even hesitate when he tells him 'go back to japan. right now!’

and if the way victor’s face crumbles when yuuri tells him about makkachin is any indication, yuuri’s made the correct choice. he’ll be damned if he’ll let victor break.

 

9.

it’s strange. it’s not the first time and it most likely won’t be the last time yuuri skates without victor’s eyes, his entire attention, trained solely on him. hell, yuuri still goes to ice castle to skate by himself some evenings, when there’s too much on his mind and he can’t bring himself to burden victor with his foolish worries.

but somehow, despite his brave words of “i’ll be fine by myself, don’t worry”, despite the fact that he came to russia hellbent on proving his worth (of being in the grand prix final again, and especially of victor’s time) and shutting mouths, and despite the (somewhat reluctant) support and yakov (and yurio), yuuri can’t seem to get himself together. his skate is sloppy at best, to the point that it almost reminds him of last year’s final… and  _oh_ , he needs to shake this, he needs to not fall, he needs to place, he needs to… he needs…

when the end results are out after jj’s program and he sees he’s fourth, yuuri feels drained. drained and disappointed in himself despite securing a spot at the finals (by the skin of his teeth and he  _hates it)_ , and he just… wants to go home. wants to see his family and victor and makkachin (“please, be okay, please, _please_ be okay”) and his room and his bed and he wants to sleep for a week.

he’ll pull himself together, he knows, he’s done it before and he will again (he has a final to prepare for, a quad flip to refine even if it kills him, and anyway, no one will let him mope this time around). but right now… 

_right now he needs his hug, goddammit…_

 

10.

as he buys them, as he slips one onto victor’s ring finger and victor puts the other one on yuuri’s own, yuuri doesn’t think of them as anything other than good luck charms and mementos, because anything more than that will only hurt later.

yuuri has decided, and he has every intention of sending victor back to russia after the final is over. send him back, to russia and to skating and winning and wowing the world, while he, himself retires to hasetsu and the quiet life of his parents’ inn.

he knows that that’s the best option for everyone, and he won’t be so selfish as to keep victor all to himself and let him wither away as a competitor, no matter how much he wants to never be apart from him ever again.

(he’d thought about it, retiring and moving to russia and just, living together and being together, but he can’t. his anxieties and low self-esteem would eat him alive, and it would only make victor’s life hard. he’d rather end this on a good note.)

the only selfishness he allows himself in these final days, besides making the most of what little time they have left together, is buying the rings. he tells victor they’re good luck charms, and in a way they are, but more than anything, they’re a reminder. that’s the real selfishness. 

he can’t make himself tell victor yet, his plans for after the competition and that he wants them both to have something physical to remind them of their time together, something other than medals and photos and calluses, and memories.

he needs that, as much as he needs victor’s support, his presence by the side of the rink so he can give his all during his skate.

and victor accepts yuuri’s words, the quiet smile on his lips making him glow more than the church light (and here’s another small selfishness, choosing to exchange the rings in front of a cathedral, the closest yuuri’s ever going to come to actually marrying the love of his life.)

~

he almost has a heart attack when victor blatantly calls them engagement rings, and in front of not only their friends but also yuuri’s family, too.

he doesn’t correct victor though, not after his first panicked bout of denial at the restaurant. it’s just got complicated, and it’s gonna hurt even more now, but he can’t make himself say the words, not now when victor looks so happy.

well, he won’t think about it now. he needs to focus and let himself enjoy the moment.

he has a gold medal to win, he can’t let himself be distracted by thoughts of  _after_.

 

11.

with each passing performance, with each revealed score that surpasses his own, yuuri feels the dread in the pit of his stomach grow more and more, and he can’t shake the feeling that he failed.

he knows he hasn’t bombed the short as badly as he could have, though, knows he can still recover from this, although the score mocks him relentlessly, and sure, there’s still the upcoming free skate. he can still win this, he can still prove his worth to the world, but…

he steals another glance at where victor sits next to him, takes in his enthralled expression and what he thinks is longing in his blue-green eyes, and yuuri feels his resolve solidify even as his heart breaks.

he fiddles with the ring on his finger and bites his lip, forces himself to watch the rest of the competition and not give into his fears, his anxiety. he’ll have enough time for that after, when he’ll have retired, and right now, what he needs is to keep his head in the game.

(he fiddles with the ring and resolutely  _does not_ think of victor calling it and engagement ring. it’s too painful a thought right now.)

 

12.

he’s nervous. he’s so,  _so_  nervous, and he doesn’t know why. it’s not the first time he’s done this (though it  _has_  been a while since china, he supposes), and this time victor’s gonna be right there beside him.

 _…oh, maybe that’s why…_  it’s gonna be different this time, it’s not going to be just him on the ice, they’re  _both_  going to show the world their love…

just before he takes to the ice, victor takes yuuri’s right hand in his, squeezes it gently and pulls it up to his lips to kiss yuuri’s ring. it calms yuuri like nothing, no words could. he smiles and returns the gesture, then places another soft kiss to the corner of victor’s mouth.

then he takes a deep breath.

he steps on the ice, takes his place in the center and lets the music (and his love) move his body.

everything’s gonna be just fine.

 


	2. victor's side

1.

it’s weird. everything is just. so weird. 

victor hadn’t expected to be turned down on his photo offer, and he also hadn’t expected to be slapped in the face with the fact that he’d actually mistaken a fellow competitor for a mere fan. but that’s what happened.

what he also did not expect was seeing him drinking himself stupid and get mostly naked and wrapping himself around not only a pole but also people, like victor for example. but that’s what happened.

or yuuri fucking katsuki drunkenly wiping the dance floor with everybody and also sweeping him off his feet and stealing his breath and his heart and just.

it’s weird. victor had thought he knew these banquets inside out and that nothing could surprise him anymore.

well… victor loves nothing like a good, pleasant surprise.

~~it’s not such a good, pleasant surprise when he hears nothing from or about yuuri for months, though.~~

2.

he hugs makkachin and lets out a breath that’s more a sob than a sigh.

yuuri is… so different now. physical appearance aside (and really, they need to get that sorted, yuuri needs to be in peak physical condition if they want a smoother glide to the grand prix final and to gold, no pun intended), his entire attitude, his demeanor is so different and victor can’t quite wrap his head around it.

how can the same man who wrapped victor around his little finger as easily as he wrapped himself around that pole, who swept him off his feet and danced him and wooed him like never before in victor’s life, be so meek and self-conscious and… victor wouldn’t say cruel with the way he’s pretending like that night never happened, but…

victor buries his face in makkachin’s fur and tries really hard not to cry.

“what should i do, makkachin?“ he asks his beloved companion, and only gets a few licks to his cheeks.

he picks up his phone and opens his banquet photo gallery. he doesn’t have many pics of that night on his phone (most are on his laptop), but what he has brings a rueful smile to his face. 

yuuri drunkenly approaching him and yuri, a couple from the two yuuri’s dance off, a few with the the pole dancing, and exactly two of yuuri and victor dancing (courtesy of chris). that’s not counting the handful of videos, because he has a few of those, too.

“i understand that he was drunk,” he tells makkachin, “but still…”

he sighs, locks his phone and puts it down on the futon. sighs again and goes back to hugging makkachin.

what he doesn’t know is that yuuri doesn’t remember the night that changed everything.

what he also doesn’t know is that, just a few feet away, in his own room, yuuri has a happy (if mortified) meltdown at his idol being in his home.

he doesn’t know, so he falls asleep with a heavy heart.

 

3.

it’s not technically perfect, not like yurio’s had been before him.

but there is so much emotion, so much passion in yuuri’s performance that victor cannot take his eyes off of him.

for all that yuuri had struggled, with the jumps, with getting into the role, with the very idea behind the theme, and with his own nerves, he seems like a whole different person once he steps on the ice.

and the moment the music starts and yuuri’s body begins to move, victor becomes transfixed, enthralled.

 _this_. this is the yuuri that he remembers. this is the yuuri that seduced victor months ago. he still stumbles in places, but he still exudes a ‘come hither’ vibe from his every pore, just like that night.

his body sings and beckons with every twirl of his fingers, with every twist of his hips, limbs moving in complete synch with the music, and victor has to remind himself to breathe.

this is the yuuri that had victor packing up his life and moving across the world without hesitation, without regret, and victor can’t wait to properly start training, to start honing yuuri’s skills.

he can’t wait to get to know each and every facet there is to yuuri, no matter how long it takes.

 

4.

yuuri pokes his head.

for a second, victor is truly worried about his hair, wondering if it’s gotten so thin to attract such attention. 

but the moment yuuri starts apologizing and being frantic about it, all such worries fly out the window and victor can’t help himself. he hams it up, plays the wounded-beyond-saving, and flops onto the ice.

there’s nothing quite like a flustered yuuri, and victor takes every advantage he can to get closer, to make yuuri loosen up around him and stop seeing him like some sort of deity, which, while usually flattering, can get annoying and tiring fast, and is really completely in his disadvantage in this particular case. he wants yuuri to see him as a man, not as a skating god.

after their talk on the beach, yuuri has stopped jumping out of his skin at victor’s every touch, and has started slowly getting bolder, more at ease, and victor loves it. he loves it and he cherishes it and he selfishly hopes for more, but he knows better than to push.

they’ll go at yuuri’s pace, as slow as that might be. and though it might be frustrating, and a little bit heart-wrenching at times, victor is happy to let yuuri take as much time as he needs.

(he does hopes it won’t be  _too_  long, but he’ll be content whatever the case.)

 

5.

he hates that tie and he loves that tie and he wants to  _burn that tie to ashes._

victor doesn’t know why yuuri sent him home early, insisting he take on the press conference by himself, and his grasp on japanese is meager at best right now, but he knows that, apart from apparently calling his relationships with friends and family abstract, and a general idea of what yuuri says, victor is… not quite completely in the dark, but unable to process what little he’s understood.

he’s unable to process it, perhaps unwilling to let hope dig its claws deeper into him, so he fixates on the tie.

it’s the same damn tie. the light blue monstrosity yuuri wore at that damned (blessed) banquet. and because of that damn tie, the images overlap in his mind, yuuri on that stage, flushing, meek at first and then confident, and yuuri at the banquet, flushed, confident and breathtaking.

the two yuuri’s overlap in his mind’s eye at that moment like never before and victor… well, victor wonders when, if ever, they will overlap in reality (or if he’ll ever get to see even a hint of banquet yuuri again).

in the meantime, he  _really_ needs to burn that tie.

~~(he firmly pushes away images of it around wrists, around eyes, around…)~~

 

6.

he wonders what happened to cause this kind of change.

yuuri’s been nervous for weeks now, even after his win at the chugoku-shikoku-kyushu championships, but victor thought it was nothing a hug and their brand of pep talk couldn’t fix. but yuuri’s nervousness seems to have… not vanished, but rather, shifted. he can’t seem to stand still for too long, especially after his friend phichit’s short program.

victor hasn’t noticed anything in particular happening in the time between their arrival at the venue and the start of the actual competition, but something obviously has.

he expects the usual soft blush (as rare as it is nowadays, but they  _are_  in public, yuuri is still somewhat skittish with the public displays of affection) when he covers yuuri’s hand with his own and encourages him to be himself this time. they both know yuuri doesn’t need a constructed image to seduce victor (and thus, the audience) anymore.

what he doesn’t expect is yuuri threading their fingers together, gripping his hand hard, and touching his forehead to victor’s, eyes and voice and attitude dripping with complete confidence, not requesting but demanding victor’s complete attention.

something happened. yuuri’s performance has never been this flawless (not even in their last practice sessions). not only the jumps and spins and footwork, but the emotion put into every motion, every twist.

something happened, victor is sure. a switch has been flipped in yuuri and victor can’t help being both happy and a little bit surprised ( _always with the surprises with yuuri_ , he thinks wryly.)

by the time yuuri hits his final pose, victor is so ecstatic he completely forgets about his curiosity at the sudden change, though.

 

7.

this entire day has already been an emotional roller-coaster ride (starting with worry for yuuri, then a rather pleasant nap, then that whole horrific argument, followed now by yuuri’s heart-stopping skate), but then yuuri jumps and does a  _flip_ of all things and victor almost blanks out in shock.

 _sure_ , yuuri doesn’t stick the landing, not even close and there will be even more bruises on his hips for that, but the fact that he switched it up and pulled it off, and at the end of the program no less and with enough rotations? 

victor can’t get his legs to move fast enough the moment the melody ends, can’t get to the rink’s entry-way fast enough.

yuuri’s lips are soft, plump, cold, and they taste like salt (from tears, from sweat), and victor honestly cannot think he’s ever felt or tasted anything better in his life.

when they finally get up, get off the ice, giggling and flushing, and go to the kiss and cry to get the results, victor’s thoughts are a jumbled mess. yuuri keeps surprising him and surprising him and he has to wonder if it’s possible to love someone too much.

‘can i kiss you?’ he asks, breathless, as breathless as yuuri, though he wasn’t the one skating. yuuri looks at him, timid, but not shying away from him.

‘you already did.’

‘can i kiss you again?’ because he needs to, as badly as he did earlier.

yuuri looks at him, then turns towards where he can see phichit approaching them. victor pouts, a whine on the tip of his tongue, until he sees the red tips of yuuri’s ears.

‘later,’ is all yuuri answers, a little too casually, before he goes to talk to his best friend and celebrate their gold and silver medals.

 _later_ , victor thinks, giddy, and that later cannot come too soon.

 

8.

yuuri grabs his tie and yanks him close, confident and demanding his attention, and victor  _loves it_. loves it so much that yuuri doesn’t seem to let the pressure of being where they are, get to him.

he’d had some… not misgivings, hesitations maybe, about them coming to russia, though he hasn’t told yuuri. 

he knows his country, and he knows everybody is still wondering about what made him just drop his shining career, his  _entire life_ , and not only coach, but coach a foreigner, instead of taking one of the promising juniors (like yuri) under his wing.

he’d expected the questions and he’d expected the people insisting that he should come back to skating, or at least to russia, and he might have also kind of expected the public’s reaction at the rink.

so to say that he’s  _very proud_  of yuuri for not only not letting that kind of pressure get to him but also skating his best short program so far is putting it mildly to say the least.

so when he gets down on his knees, and kisses yuuri’s skate for all of russia,  _for all the world_  to see, he does it with all the pride and all the love in his heart, and without a trace of hesitation.

because yuuri’s worth it, _all of it._

 

9.

‘until i retire, please take care of me.' 

he knows that phrasing, even if it’s said in english instead of japanese, has heard it a few times on tv while in japan, has asked about it in curiosity, so he knows. and even with the bit about retirement attached (yuuri’s way of protecting himself, he’s sure), he still understands, and his heart flutters, stutters in his chest.

it almost sounds like a marriage proposal, and he tells yuuri so, softly, with a kiss on the hand and a sort of happiness he’s starting to realise he’s never felt before, and he smiles when yuuri doesn’t deny it, pulls him back into his arms and clings. he says, wistful, that he wishes, then, that yuuri would never retire, and hopes yuuri understands what he really means.

~

the words still ring in victor’s ears on the train ride home, yuuri’s eyes and voice and demeanour while saying it screaming determination (and something else victor can’t quite put his finger on, and is too tired to look too deep into it right then), and his chest feels like it might burst. he wanders if yuuri will let him hold him tonight, if he’ll let victor cling to him like he needs right now.

when they finally arrive at the inn in the quiet of the night, exhausted both physically and emotionally, yuuri doesn’t even hesitate to follow him into his room, and victor is glad, the warmth in his chest growing.

they don’t even bother with sleep clothes. they get in bed in their underwear and nothing else, because it’s too much of a hassle when they are as tired as they are. makkachin joins them, settles at their feet, and victor’s heart finally starts to settle. he has his two most precious being with him, and he feels like the world is finally right again.

~

they don’t fall asleep immediately, despite their exhaustion, and it’s a while until either of them speaks, because the quiet in the room is calming, soothing, and neither feels like breaking it.

‘i’m glad makkachin is alright,’ yuuri finally says, barely a whisper, and victor hears the relief and the sadness in his tone. he knows what yuuri doesn’t say.

‘i am, too,’ he answers. ‘he’s an old thing, but he’s not going to lose to a few buns. he still has a few years left in him.’

yuuri squeezes his fingers gently, in agreement or support, victor doesn’t know, but he appreciates it.

the room falls into silence for a few minutes, and then yuuri speaks again, softer than the first time.

‘i’m sorry i didn’t do better.’

victor looks at him, can see his hunched shoulders even in the darkness of the room, the way yuuri’s trying to make himself seem smaller. and he sighs.

‘oh, yuuri, no,’ he says, and he pulls yuuri close, gathers him in his arms and kisses his forehead. his sweet yuuri, thinking he had failed victor somehow. victor has to make him understand that that is  _really_  not that case.

‘you did great, yuuri,’ he says, ‘you might have stumbled a bit, sure, but all that matters is that you’re in the final. we still have time to perfect your programmes. everything will be alright, you’ll see.’

yuuri lets out a small noise, a soft, uncertain hum, and buries his face deeper into victor’s neck.

‘okay,’ he murmurs, and victor wishes he had a way of showing yuuri, of convincing him of what victor sees whenever he watches yuuri skate.

he lets it go for now, puts it aside for another day, and snuggles closer to yuuri. he pulls the covers tighter around them, makes sure makkachin is sleeping comfortably at the foot of the bed and settles in to sleep.

right now, all they need is rest.

 

10.

yuuri buys something from the jewellery store, all secretive and blushing, after which he takes victor’s hand and pulls him along till they reach Barcelona cathedral.

victor is… confused, to say the least, because yuuri’s acting weird, has been acting a bit weird all day, and he can’t figure out  _why_. he’d like to blame it on nerves, on pre-performance anxiety, but it doesn’t seem to be like that. victor has seen yuuri’s pre-competition jitters, and this doesn’t fit.

when they reach the cathedral, the scene before him is almost something out of a christmas movie, the way the church is lit up, soft lights casting long shadows, and the choir at the bottom of the steps singing carols setting a pleasant, almost romantic mood. victor thinks the only thing missing is the tolling of bells.

yuuri climbs the stairs, puts the bags down and turns to face victor, a determined, if nervous look on his face. victor takes everything in, from the setting, to their last stop before coming here, to the fidgety yuuri in front of him, and tries to put two and two together.

the first answer that comes to him, the most obvious one, is that yuuri is going to propose, but he immediately casts that thought away because it’s ridiculous. even now that they’re together, yuuri isn’t really one for such bold actions. they’ve yet to talk about what they’ll do after the final, after the new year, after this season, so something like marriage is not even in the books for now. victor doesn’t let himself get his hopes up, so he pushes that thought to the side forcefully.

then he thinks that maybe yuuri has gone and bought him a birthday present, despite victor telling him not to bother. but why would he give it to him now? so maybe that’s not it either.

a few more other options flash through his head, lightning quick, until yuuri takes a deep breath, and reaches into the bag he bought at maria dolores and pulls out a small, square box.

victor feels his heart stop in his chest and time slow down. yuuri is…

yuuri is opening the box and pulls out its contents, before dropping the box back in the bag. then he extends his hand and yeah,  _those are rings_  sitting innocently in his open palm, shining like the sun in the light from the cathedral. victor can’t take his eyes off of them, breathless.

‘take one.’ yuuri urges him, and he can feel his hand lifting, his fingers brushing against the cool surface of the bands, before picking one up. he looks at yuuri, questioning. he can’t… he can’t wrap his head around it… is yuuri really…?

apparently yuuri is? sometimes, when backed into a corner, athletes can act completely unexpectedly. victor knows this, and yet he’s still surprised.

yuuri takes victor’s right hand in his and pulls off his glove, a fierce blush on his face the entire time, and then the bells are tolling, and victor thinks this couldn’t feel any more surreal.

‘thank you for everything up to now.’ yuuri says, a bit hesitant, and still holding victor’s hand. ‘i… i couldn’t think of something better. but, umm… i’ll try my best from tomorrow on, so… it’s a good luck charm.’

and oh _. oh._

 _of course_.  

victor takes a sharp breath, realising his heart has started racing, and finally tears his eyes off of the glinting gold ring on his finger.

of course yuuri would do it like this.

yuuri, for his part, doesn’t say anything more, looks bashful and a bit scared, like he doesn’t know what to expect, like he’s not sure what victor’s answer will be. the flush on his cheeks looks even more charming in the churchlight.

victor takes his hand, he right one, and says, ‘sure, a good luck charm so you won’t have to think of anything.’. he slips the other ring onto yuuri’s ring finger, as gentle as yuuri had been, if not quite as shaky.

‘so tomorrow, show me the skating you can honestly say you like the best.” he tells him, and he wouldn’t be able to keep the fondness out of his voice if he tried.

yuuri looks incredulous for a moment, like he can’t quite believe victor’s actions and victor’s words, despite everything. but that only lasts a moment, and then he looks up, meets victor’s smile with one of his own that is brighter than the sun.

if this yuuri can get his confidence from this, if this helps, for now, victor can let him call it a good luck charm. he can’t think of any other shortcut to that gold medal.

the weight of the ring around his finger feels alien, but victor is pretty sure he will never in his life take it off, for any reason.

yuuri starts fidgeting again, and victor just can’t help it. he pulls yuuri in, ring shining, calling for attention with every movement, and places a soft kiss to his lips, short, simple, but conveying everything he can’t yet put into words. then he leans his forehead against yuuri’s, eyes closed and breaths mingling.

a small chuckle escapes his lips. yuuri really,  _really_  knows how to surprise him, how to blow his mind, even when he’s still too shy to say what he really means.

victor pulls back with one more peck to yuuri’s lips and picks up his share of the bags with one hand, draping his other arm around yuuri’s shoulders.

‘let’s go, yuuri.’ he says, ‘the night is still young!’ 

 

11.

he doesn’t think it’s that bad. 

yes, it could have been better, the score could have been higher (if yuuri had landed the flip, or if he’d had kept the original jump combination), but it’s not a disaster.

yes, yurio has set a new record, and it would make things difficult, but victor has every bit of faith that yuuri would overcome that difference.

that’s why victor doesn’t say anything, just stands by yuuri ( _‘’you don’t have to say anything, just stand by my side and don’t leave!”_  still rings in his ears from time to time), and hopes it’s enough. hopes this time he’s doing it right.

maybe that’s why he doesn’t see this coming. 

maybe that’s why, in the evening, in their hotel room, he can feel his heart crack more and more with every word that comes out of yuuri’s mouth. he’d thought things were finally settling, were finally right. sure, the current standing at the final isn’t ideal, but he doesn’t think it warrants  _this._

yuuri says “let’s end this” and “i’m retiring” and “you can go back to skating” and victor can’t stop his tears anymore than he can grasp the sun with his bare hands.

his fiance is selfish in his attempt at being selfless, and it seems like he doesn’t understand victor at all. even after all this time, he still seems to be blind to victor’s feelings, still thinks that he’s undeserving of victor’s devotion. even now, he still doesn’t see that the only thing that victor wants is to stand by his side. 

he’s never been angry at yuuri until now. annoyed maybe, frustrated, definitely, but never angry. hell, he doesn’t remember the last time he was angry at all.

but in this moment, barely twenty-four hours after standing in front of a church, exchanging rings like promises, victor feels like he could just  _throttle_  yuuri.

 

12.

he doesn’t want to go back.

he hasn’t wanted to go back to competitive skating in… he doesn’t even remember how long, months definitely, maybe even as far back as that one day on the beach, or maybe it was during the onsen on ice, he isn’t quite sure, but  _the point is_ , victor has long since decided that it really isn’t something he actively wants to do anymore. (and that’s not even taking into account the fact that his knees have started to ache, just a little, with every quad.)

so yes, he doesn’t want to go back.

but if going back means yuuri will continues skating, if it means yuuri won’t retire when he still has such a long way to go, so many medals and awards to win, so much splendor to show the world, then victor will go back, damn his legs and damn anyone who will tell him that he can’t, that he won’t be able to, after so long.

the smile on yuuri’s face when victor tells him is worth it.

the way yuuri kisses him later, in the privacy of their hotel room, giddy and breathless, words of happiness and of excitement for the future spilling from his lips, is worth it even more.

victor doesn’t want to go back to competitive skating, no, but if that makes yuuri happy, then by god, he will.

 


End file.
